“What?” Milo demanded, but she listened to the story Jase spun and once he was finished, said, “Milo says that Jacob killed his sister. Never proven because he skipped town.”

“To become the 21 Killer in Los Angeles.”

“And he came back here, not because of Rick Bentz,” she said, as the pieces finally clicked together. “But because of Myra.”

True to her word, Brianna was waiting for him.

Jase tore into the parking lot, threw himself out of his pickup, and stepped onto the sunbaked asphalt. She’d crossed the parking lot to meet him and his heart soared stupidly at the sight of her. He felt the urge to throw his arms around her, to ignore the fact that the secret he bore would keep them apart forever, but, of course, he couldn’t. He had to restrain himself.

He took one step toward her when from out of the shadows of live oaks, a man catapulted himself at him. “You bastard!” the man screamed. “You killed her!”

“Milo!” Brianna cried as Jase feinted to the side and his attacker hit hard against the side of his truck.

“What the hell is this all about?” he demanded, grabbing the guy’s arm and pulling it around his back.

“You killed Myra.”

“Not me, pal.”

“I thought I explained,” Brianna said. “Stop this!”

“Fuck!” Face red, eyes bulging, Milo was forced hard against the hot front panel of the truck. “It’s just you look so much like the bastard.”

“I know.” Jase gave the guy’s arm a little tweak.

Milo squealed and his knees buckled.

“We good now?” Jase asked, feeling sweat run down his face, his adrenaline punched up. “Because I’ve had a long day and I’m itching for a fight. What’d’ya say?”

Milo didn’t respond.

“Okay, then—”

“No! Don’t. I’m good. Good.” Milo was nodding furiously. “Good.”

Jase didn’t let go.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, man, I’m sure. Look, I didn’t mean anything. You just look so freaking much like the guy I’ve been searching for . . . hell.”

Jase released him and stepped back, but he remained wary, ready to pin the guy again and call the cops. “I don’t have time for this,” he said. “The guy you’re looking for, my brother, the police think he might be at a place your sister owned around here.”

“What?”

“A cabin by the river?”

“That old place?” Milo was shaking his head. “I thought . . . I mean, I think my uncle or cousins ended up with it.”

“Deed’s in the name of Myra Tillman, owes a ton of back taxes. State’s about to step in.”

Brianna asked, “How do you know that?”